


waiting for the ready, set, go!

by suisei (nanakomatsus)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: All-Japan Youth Intensive Training Camp, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Pre-Canon, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Training Camp, i just really love my national babies uwu, manga spoilers kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 21:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17210873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanakomatsus/pseuds/suisei
Summary: the climb to the top is filled with glorious mountains; ones with great, jagged, snow-capped summits. there are those who come and go, but then, there are the constants. the chosen ones.(-but sure, they’re just kids barely figuring life out, sneaking out of their dorms in the middle of the night for a trip to the convenience store.)well, at least they’re not alone in this.(-and that’s what makes it that much more harder, but all the more fun at the same time.)





	waiting for the ready, set, go!

**Author's Note:**

> camp shenanigans with the friends they only meet like, three times a year. title and soundtrack: [as you like it - eve](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nROvY9uiYYk)
> 
> [chap. 329 spoilers]
> 
> (other characters will appear in the following chapters)

 

His first call comes a week after qualifiers.

 

He’s practicing his receives when one of his teammates comes running wildly into the gymnasium, with their teacher adviser chasing after him in a panic.

 

“Wakacchan got called up for the Junior Camp!” The boy all but shrieks, hands balled into fists. Their teacher stops in his tracks, breathing heavily, about to collapse. The gym is silent, waiting for confirmation. He straightens up and pats himself down, smoothing out his expression. A grin spreads across his face.

 

“The call came in about ten minutes ago,” he announces, beaming with pride. The boy in question stands up just as the ball lands on his head, bouncing off with a dull thud.

 

His teammates burst into cheers and gather round him, clapping him on the back. His seniors promise to treat him to a nice dessert from the expensive vending machine stood by the main auditorium.

 

 

 

He finds himself stood in front of the Sports Sciences Institute at the end of that same week, the map clenched tightly in his shaking hands. _It’s supposed to be here, it’s the same address on the map so why-_

 

“Hey kid-” A deep voice rumbles ahead of him. A security guard towers over him and he almost turns to run away and go back to the station. But before he can do so, the guard speaks again.

 

“You lost?” The man asks, voice softening upon seeing the spooked expression on the middle-schooler’s face. The kid nods frantically, holding out a sorry map. The guard studies it for a moment before sighing.

 

“The indoor gym is back there,” he says, pointing to the taller building behind the one they’re stood in front of. After a little more explanation, the boy is sent on his way, muttering a frantic ‘thank you’ and waddling off, lugging along his battered duffle bag.

 

The Ajinomoto Training Center stands tall and slightly imposing with its modern grey and brown-brick walls. Suddenly, he really misses the rolling hills and the smell of herbs in his parents’ onsen. Whatever, he shakes his head and sucks in a breath before pushing through the glass doors.

 

A staff member with a clipboard is on standby, greeting him chirpily.

 

“Name?”

 

“Kiryuu Wakatsu,” he replies, feeling his confidence grow as he catches the familiar sound of shoes squeaking against court floors and the loud _smack!_  of a ball against the hardwood walls of the gymnasium just ahead of him.

 

 

 

His call comes a few days after qualifiers.

 

They’d just come back from a run when Coach Saito calls him over to the office and hands him a permission slip, congratulating him with a kind smile.

 

Tendou bugs him about it during the break.

 

“You’re gonna miss us, huh huh? Just say it, Wakatoshi-kun~” The red head sing-songs to him, getting all in his face. Not that he minds. He just sighs and gives a minuscule nod in hopes of quietening his roommate. It doesn’t seem to work.

 

“You guys saw that? Wakatoshi-kun says he’s going to miss us at camp!” The blocker announces to the rest of the team. The seniors chuckle and coo at him, joining in the teasing. Ushijima looks around and finds Reon giggling along, catching his kind gaze.

 

‘We’ll miss you too, Wakatoshi,’ his classmate mouths.

 

 

 

It’s his second time here, but Ushijima still can’t quite get used to navigating around Tokyo. Everything’s overly complicated for reasons beyond him. He very much prefers the transportation back home, where the train’s got only one line to get around his district which intersects with the main line to get to the city center.

 

But muscle memory leads him mostly in the right direction and after a short ride from the Ouji Bus Station, he finds himself registering his name at the front desk before heading to the dorms to set his stuff down and back to the gym for the first briefing.

 

They’re a moderately-sized group - small enough to get around without it being too chaotic but big enough that he probably wouldn’t be able to get to know everyone until the end of camp (not that he’s planning to anyway- socializing isn’t his thing, and that’s not what the camp is for, he reminds himself resolutely).

 

The briefing lasts only ten minutes before they’re sent off to warm up and begin drills.

 

Everyone keeps to their own for the most part, focusing on whatever task is ahead of them. The air isn’t tense in the way that it is in a tournament- it’s more to do with the fact that they’re all being checked up on meticulously at an individual level. It’s stifling for the first couple of hours, but Ushijima thrives.

 

They’re onto jump serves - twenty each. There’s a trainer at the edge of every court holding a little electronic gadget - _to measure the speed,_ they were told, _so give it your all._

 

Kiryuu looks around, surveying the other players nonchalantly, taking notes of the faces with a familiar school name on their back as he waits his turn. Most of them will probably be meeting each other again in a few weeks at Nationals.

 

Suddenly, a singular, loud _bang!_ echoes throughout the gym, snapping him out of his thoughts. And a few seconds later, another, and another- The boys on his side of the gym who are also waiting, slowly turn to take a peek (him included of course, straining to not make it look too obvious - just as the others are doing the same).

 

There, at the furthest opposite end of the gym, the ball goes up, halfway to the ceiling, before a body follows suit, a tanned arm drawn back all the way to make the hit.

 

Kiryuu holds his breath. He imagines an eagle taking flight - except it’s more elegant and refined - like a swan, with the added raw power.

 

The arm comes down, the hand making contact with the ball as the boy thrusts his upper body forward with it, bringing his whole weight down on it as well.

 

The sound of its impact literally drowns out everything else as it comes down impossibly fast and hard against the floor before ascending upwards back into the air, higher than its original starting point from when it was tossed up. Gravity sends it plummeting down once more and again and again until it bounces to a stop against the opposing wall.

 

For the next few minutes, those are the only sounds that resonate around the gym, unwavering. Kiryuu doesn’t even realise it’s his turn until he’s tapped on the shoulder and handed the ball.

 

His focus shifts. He looks down at the spherical object in his own hands. A smile begins to form on his mouth. His breathing slows as he tosses, the noise around him - including the loud bangs from the other side - drowning out until there’s nothing but him and the ball.

 

He sucks in a breath as he feels his feet lift off the ground, light as a feather, he thinks to himself. Excitement courses through his veins as he whips his arm forward, slamming it down and it feels good.

 

The noise filters back in. Only now, it’s a hundred times louder for some reason.

 

He lands with a little grunt and finds the court almost silent. His eyes scan around for a split second - did he do something wrong? - before finding a pair of olive orbs holding his gaze from across the gym.

 

The other boy regards him with a poker face, and it’s hard to tell, but it’s there- acknowledgement.

 

Two balls fall from the sky almost at the same time, breaking their brief eye contact. And everything seemingly goes back to normal.

 

Kiryuu suppresses a smile, accepting another ball and goes to work with it without another moment’s hesitation.

 

 

 

Dinner is nice.

 

He is invited by a setter from Fukuoka to sit at a table with three others; a libero from Yokohama and two middle blockers from Tokyo.

 

“That was some power!” The libero compliments brightly with a toothy smile. Kiryuu lets out a sheepish laugh, ducking his head and thanking him.

 

“So what’s your name?” One of the middle blockers asks.

 

“Kiryuu Wakatsu,” he replies, happy that he’s managed to make some acquaintances on the first day.

 

“Hmm… ‘Wakatsu’,” the other MB ponders, seemingly deep in thought.

 

“My friends call me ‘Wakacchan’ back home,” he adds shyly. The other four sit up suddenly, closing in on him with excited grins.

 

“Wakacchan?” They repeat in unison, a tad bit too loudly. Kiryuu begins sputtering, yeah, you can call me that if you want, I guess, I don’t mind-

 

“Yes?” Comes a deeper voice as another boy comes to a stop by their table. The five of them turn slowly to look up at him. He’s tall and built and tan with thick eyebrows and a stoic gaze.

 

Kiryuu gulps. Meanwhile, the other four burst into voracious laughter.

 

“Oh yeah, this is Waka-chan. Meet Wakacchan,” says the setter, a third year, between giggles.

 

The newcomer’s gaze falls on him. Oh, Kiryuu thinks, the guy from before, in the gym. He blinks, realising rather belatedly that he’s staring. Not wanting to be rude, he offers a nervous smile.

 

“Kiryuu Wakatsu. I’m from Oita,” he offers, trying to sound as friendly as possible. The taller merely nods, not even a ripple of change in his expression.

 

“Ushijima Wakatoshi, Shiratorizawa Academy, Miyagi,” he replies flatly.

 

“You wanna join us, Wakatoshi-kun?” asks the libero.

 

“I have a table.”

 

“Ah,” then, “Sorry for holding you up.”

 

“It’s not a problem.” And goes on his way, heading towards another group of players who greet him enthusiastically.

 

Shiratorizawa, Kiryuu thinks, parsing through his memories. They’re headed to nationals as well. No surprise there. They’ll definitely bump into each other again soon.

 

 

 

They do bump into each other again. An hour later, actually.

 

Wakatsu’s on his tablet, too absorbed in watching a match between the Osaka Blazers and the JTEKT Stings that he doesn’t notice the arrival of his futon mate - barely registering the dip in the futon beside him as its owner settles in. It’s the droplets of water that fall onto his screen that snap him out of the match. He turns to the general direction of its source.

 

Ushijima Wakatoshi lets the towel fall around his shoulders, droplets of water still escaping to the tips of his olive-brown hair. He feels a pair of eyes observing him and turns to his left.

 

Kiryuu blinks, before his eyes shine with recognition.

 

“Ushijima-kun?” He inquires with confusion.

 

“Sorry about that,” comes the deep baritone of his roommate’s barely-teenage voice, pointing his chin towards the tablet on his lap. Kiryuu does a double-take, eyes flitting between the other boy’s still-wet hair and the paused game on the screen.

 

“Oh, it’s fine,” he assures. A long, awkward moment passes in silence before his own stench begins to waft up his nostrils. He feels his face heat up.

 

“Are the showers still crowded?” He tries, attempting to re-initiate the conversation while gathering his toiletries.

 

“Not really.”

 

He nods and considers for a moment before holding out the tablet to Ushijima. The taller looks at him in mild surprise and confusion. Kiryuu smiles kindly.

 

“You can watch while I’m gone, if you want. Then, we can continue together when I’m back!”

 

Ushijima doesn’t seem to know what to do. There’s another awkward moment of slight tension before he slowly accepts the device with both hands, still rather unsure.

 

“Okay.”

 

Kiryuu’s smile grows wider.

 

When he gets back, there are a couple of other boys huddled around Ushijima, all of them watching intently. There are little _oohs_ and _aahs_ but mostly they just watch in awed silence.

 

Kiryuu joins them, settling beside Ushijima, their knees grazing each other as more people begin to huddle around them, pushing them closer together.

 

They manage to watch one and a half matches before someone warns them to hide it away in a loud whisper just as one of the trainers comes around to turn the lights off in their dorm for the night.

 

“Good night, Ushijima-kun,” Kiryuu manages softly, after he’s sure the trainer has left. Ushijima turns to him, his eyes curving in the slightest.

 

“Goodnight, Kiryuu-kun.”

 

 

 

Kiryuu thinks he might go blind playing in a place like this.

 

The floors of the Kobe Green Arena seem shinier than the lights that surround the court. As they file in for the opening ceremony, he can’t help but look around in awe at the high dome-shaped ceiling. The place is buzzing with energy. Most of the teams are already here, getting ready for the first day.

 

He spots a couple familiar faces; the setter from Fukuoka who had been apart of their dinner-table group waves at him wildly. He tries to greet him back with similar enthusiasm but the nerves must be getting to him so he waves back a little moderately with a shy smile.

 

They’ve booked their spot for the day and mill about for half an hour or so before an announcement blares through the speakers, calling all players to the main court for the line-up.

 

There’s the usual, droning speeches, the singing of the national anthem, the flag goes up and the VIP bids them good luck before they begin setting up for the first few games of Round One.

 

Their game is expected to be after lunch. Kiryuu takes this oppurtunity to break away and wander around for a bit. He watches a couple matches, bumps into more people from camp, before deciding to head to the cafeteria.

 

He’s lining up for a salad when he catches sight of a familiar bunch of white-and-maroon tracksuits. Subconsciously, his eyes search for a familiar face. He doesn’t find one.

 

 

 

They make it to the quarterfinals.

 

He can’t sleep, though, and sneaks out with his tablet, re-watching the day’s match as well as their opponent’s for the next day’s. Then, he comes across Shiratorizawa’s match and considers clicking on it but-

 

He’s caught and his setter scolds him, not unkindly, to go to bed.

 

‘Don’t you worry, Kiryuu Wakatsu is Japan’s Greatest Ace!’

 

The words ring in his ears. He goes to bed soon after with a small smile, feels the tingle in his fingers and hopes and hopes and _hopes…_

 

 

 

Their game is after lunch once again.

 

He’s revising with his teammates over breakfast when an announcement blares over the speakers.

 

_“Next match on court B: Shiratorizawa Academy and Hidaka Junior High, will be starting in five minutes. All players and staff on standby. Thank you for your attention.”_

 

Kiryuu manages to catch the match at its halfway point. Shiratorizawa are three points ahead.

 

He lurks around, trying to find a nice spot to watch from.

 

“Ayy it’s Ushiwaka! He’s totally got that aura about him.” The conversation filters in above the roar of the crowd. Two kids - _twins?_ \- presumably younger than him squeeze by the sponsor placards surrounding the edge of the court, chatting excitedly. They must be players too, because they’re both in similar uniform. At some point, they end up bickering. Kiryuu tries to focus on the game until-

 

“-but when it comes to receives and serves, as a whole, it’s gotta be that Oita guy-”

 

“Kiryuu?”

 

“Yeah, I think Kiryuu-kun is all-round better at those things-”

 

Kiryuu feels his cheeks get warm. He scratches the back of his neck, the indirect compliment sending his fingers tingling.

 

Just then, the serve goes up from Hidaka. It’s received with ease by one of the Shiratorizawa players and goes to the setter immediately. Kiryuu clenches his teeth.

 

As expected, Ushijima slams it past the wall of blockers with so much power and speed, none of the receivers on the opposing team have enough time to react. The crowd goes ballistic.

 

Kiryuu’s heart pounds. He balls his fist up, feeling the adrenaline pump through his veins.

 

He’s going to prove those compliments true.

 

 

 

It’s chilly outside.

 

He feels the last of his tears dry up with the autumn wind.

 

_I’ll be in soon._

 

_‘You sure you don’t want me to stay here with you?’_

 

_You’re only going to make me cry harder._

 

_A light chuckle. ‘Okay. Don’t take too long. Your bento’s gonna get cold. We have one more match remember?’_

 

He’s about to head in when he spots the Shiratorizawa players by the vending machine a little ways away. As he battles between choosing to say ‘hi’ or just running off before they spot him, he feels a familiar gaze aimed towards him.

 

“Ah, Ushijima-kun!” He greets with a small smile, holding a hand up. The other boy holds up his own hand in response.

 

“Congratulations on your match! Good luck for the next one!” He calls out.

 

Ushijima merely nods, his features softening. Kiryuu calls out a ‘see ya around’ and bounds back into the arena.

 

 _Next time, for sure,_ he oaths to himself.

 

 

 

They place sixth overall and head home the next day.

 

Shiratorizawa is eliminated in the semifinals and places fourth.

 

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so I’ve been in the fandom for like. years. but this is my first fic. am I passing my (late) initiation with flying colours yet? (pls tell me if you like this bc i feed off attention and comments uwu)
> 
> anyway, this is just me getting emotional over our quite recently (not really) revealed Overpowered volleydorks. as you can tell, I am SO READY for season 4!!!
> 
> come and scream with me on twt [@uwushiwaka](https://twitter.com/uwushiwaka)


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